Belle Of The Ball
by KathrynD1993
Summary: Vivienne helps F!Adaar get ready for the ball. Sera is honest about how well the Inquisitor cleans up. One-Shot.


The Inquisitor looked a fool. The best way to describe it was she looked (and felt) like a Mabari war hound which some annoying Orlesian child was playing dress up with. Like a hound, she should never be dressed in finery. The Inquisitor exhaled heavily and let her shoulders slump in defeat.

"Don't sigh, it's most unbecoming, dear." The voice belonged to Vivienne, who along with Josephine had insisted on with ridiculous get up despite the Inquisitor's protests. The Inquisition was going to be at the Winter Palace for this ball, so it was only appropriate they dressed to impress. They had to make a positive impression on the court.

Although the Inquisitor doubted she would be successful. One look at her and they'd piss themselves laughing, she was sure of it. The Inquisitor's lips thinned in a frown and she sighed inwardly this time. _Give me strength._

"Don't roll your eyes either." The Mage sounded pleased as she fixed the last pin into place.

_As if pinning this outfit in place to highlight I'm a woman is going to make a difference_, the Inquisitor thought bitterly.

The Mage stepped back and admired her handiwork. She began circling the Inquisitor, scrutinising every detail, making sure nothing was done to half measure.

"No ribbon for my horns? I'm disappointed, Viv." The words dripped with sarcasm and came more bitter than the Inquisitor had intended. The Inquisitor didn't like being judged and only served to bring out the venom in her.

"Horn." Vivienne corrected, ignorant to the Qunari's discomfort. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, no doubt thinking of other means to torture the Qunari, all in the name of looking good for Orlesian nobles. "And our friendship does not grant you, or anyone for that matter, permission to call me Viv, Vi or any other names you can come up with. It's Vivienne to you. Enchanter Vivienne or Madame de Fer to everyone else."

_ Or bitch_, the Inquisitor scowled looking at her boots like they were the most interesting thing in the whole of Thedas. She just wanted things to be back to normal, back to before she became the Herald of Andraste. Kill Corypheus and go back to work. That was the simple plan she had. Not that she believed that things would _actually_ go the way she wanted.

Vivienne smiled satisfied -or realised she could do no more for the Qunari. "Now turn around and look at yourself, my dear. I'm rather impressed at the work I've done. No small feat, to be sure."

With great hesitation the Inquisitor turned round. The Qunari knew she would hate what she saw, dread filled her... and she was correct.

The absence of her horn on her left side was most noticeable feature. It had been snapped close to the base during a scrap with Red Templars, leaving a jagged stump in its wake. The Inquisitor reached up and touched the end of the break. It was as sharp and as unpleasant as it looked. She missed it, and felt she didn't look right without it.

Next was her scars. Never before did the Inquisitor think she would be self conscious of such a thing, after all they were proof that she had survived whatever trials she had faced so far. To that extent she was rather proud of them. The most prominent one was a scar running down the right side of her face. It trailed from her brow, down across her cheek and to her upper lip where it grew faint. Luckily it had missed her eye.

It was offical, she didn't have a good side. Apart from that she thought she looked alright... Providing she didn't breathe or the suit would burst at the seams. _At least it's not a gown. _

"Smile, dear. Show me your charming look."

The Qunari tried but it was pained, unnatural looking like this whole affair was. She had a nice smile when it wasn't forced. Or she hoped she did.

"Well... I hope you can dance." With that Vivienne left the Inquisitor alone to stare at her reflection. It was a sore reminder of why she hated mirrors.

The Inquisitor wasn't sure how long she had been staying when she heard the poorly stifled laughter. She turned to face the source. Sera held a hand over her mouth, her eyes watering and a foot beginning to stamp on the floor from trying to contain her amusement. "Sera, I'm hurt, don't you think I look dashing?"

The Elf snorted, "Ha! Oh, yeah, you look _real _ sharp." The Elf struggled to stand upright through laughter and hunched over, holding her stomach. "You look a right tit."  
>The Qunari grinned showing the pearls of her teeth, " Ouch. At least I can count on you for your honesty, I suppose... As long as I'm your tit that's all that matters."<p>

The Elf had mostly managed to stop laughing, excluding a few chuckles, and moved to stand in front of the Inquisitor. "Yeah, you're my tit," Sera said with a mischievous grin. She pressed her hands to the Inquisitor's breasts and gave them a jiggle, before pressing her face between them, "And so are these tits."

The Inquisitor laughed at the muffled voice, it was hearty and warm laugh which made her insecurities vanish. Sera had a talent for that. She pulled the Elf into a near crushing hug and placed a kiss on her forehead, "Thank you, Sera."

The Elf looked up from between the Qunari's generous chest, "You're welcome, Inky."

The Inquisitor's eyes searched Sera's and she leaned in the Elf rising on her tiptoes to meet the Qunari's eager lips.

"Ahem." The pair stopped inches away from each other and glared at the unwelcome guest. It was Vivienne. The Circle Mage was standing in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest, looking overall unimpressed with their affectionate display. "Duty calls, my dear."


End file.
